While the local Uglait as the local Iztalan called their duke had originally seized power backed by a minority of his people that worshiped the fierce unconquerable sun just like his dynasty did while the majority of the realm had worshiped the two faced goddess Ishiri. However his more tolerant approach had lead him being sidelined by the more fanatical sun worshipers and internal strife and economic downturn seemed to be the hallmark of the realms independence.
To further make the situation worse for the young duchy had the revitalised federal and royal navy started to sniff around their waters prodding for weak spots or a reason to pounce. The reason had come in the form of a single slave ship that had been captured heading out from the realm with a full shipment of people, and the Scanderans that they themselves had been enthusiastic slavers just half a decade ago outraged by this crime against the crowns honour officially had their reason to attack. They boasted loudly and proudly that this first step in Imperial reconquest was heralded by their own dedication to stamp out slavery.
The first strike of operation “Proposed school budget for southern Vedian countryside the 1564th year of our kingdom“ had been a success to say the least. A large field army had launched first two naval invasions of Itzala, one large northern one had been able to distract the enemy forces enough for the absolute royal federation to seize the main harbour, Etz’Male. A vanguard of a whole field army composed of soldiers from the 2nd Vedian, 3rd African, and 2nd Ta’ka sha’miri field armies had been able to make an unopposed landing and march on the city while originally unopposed so had the city’s garrison marched out to face them but both commanders had decided to not risk an all out engagement and the matter had been settled by a battle of champions as 9 men from both sides had done battle with swords. In the end had the Scanderans triumphed and the city garrison accepted surrender in the old honoured way as both sides gave sacrifices to the fallen so that they might use the items for the next life. Having taken the city and with reinforcement swarming into the continent had the northern force been forced to disengage and withdraw further inland or risk being surrounded which allowed the two Scanderan forces to link up and prepare their advance away from beachhead they had just established.
Olaf auf Swiborg stood and muttered to himself as he gave his surroundings a suspicious look trying to see if any of the locals were likely to take a shot at him or the guests that he awaited. But the natives looked harmless enough. The climate was rather hot and the people at least did not have a tendency to wear cloaks as was common in most parts of the federation where they could hide weapons.
They were an odd looking people with skin that was almost snow white and pale even compared to men from the home continent. Like a few vedians that in their pale blue uniforms tried to get some use out of the shade a bit away, their kilts clinging to their exposed legs that glittered of sweat to the delight of a few women a bit away that were giggling and pointing. Olaf’s eyes moved to the women, they had long curly black hair that stood at odds with their pale skin but what really made them look odd was their eyes, ranging from ember to pale yellow in colour. Their clothes were white with coloured patches of cloth sewn on to them haphazardly. A local tradition where they fixed their white armless dresses or tunics with bright impressive colours that showed that broken things could be made more beautiful by being broken. In a similar ideology did they also break their statues and simple pottery that was then fixed with gold. Olaf gave a suspicious look at one such statue reportedly being of a local hero that had been chosen by the two faced goddess.
No he admitted to himself as he thought back to the statues in Imerian Africa, the high culture that he was part of had the right idea to just paint the damned things. Like the statue of his great uncle that had been a loyal servant in the royal campaigns back in his day. His statue was displayed in great pride back at the family estate, his skin being painted the same dark brown as Olafs was and the same odd grey colour as Olafs.
His hand went carefully up his curly hair to make sure that it was still the same pale grey colour as it had been earlier. Yes, the ground up limestone that he used to colour it greyish due to the contrast of his natural black hair was still holding up despite the heat of the air around him. Well the day was at least promising to be interested when the Allaneans would get there. The federation did not need these outlanders he maintained but he had promised Eikvylda that he would be nice.
But then again that was what her kind was all about, polite and diplomatic with their smiles and their weird rabbit like ears. Well that is why they were part of the federation while he and the other Scanderans as warriors ruled it. He sighed again as he looked at a local that had gotten into a shouting match with another over a cart that had fallen. Just like most of their people did they were their tunics with those weird coloured pattern and with arms that ended way too early for decency in public, even their trousers were cut very short ending just after the knees.
"Well hopefully we will be able to teach them how to dress properly one day or another!" he thought to himself shaking his head as he took out his pocket watch to see how long his wait would be as another division of tracklayers made landfall followed by a regiment of cat eared fighters, their eyes suspiciously eyeing everyone around them that despite not being human were still considered the elite of the Ta’ka sha’miri fighting forces. Slave fighters they were called in the sun tongue that was a bit ironic Olof had to admit since that was what they were here to stop. On the other hand they were free men each and all even if they still claimed to be owned by their own temples so was that no longer so legally and they could leave if they wanted to but the old warrior tradition died slowly and they still kept proudly to their own traditions.